


Mine Right Now

by j_gabrielle



Category: Fast and the Furious Series, Hobbs & Shaw (2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Two Idiots Who Need To Talk To Each Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-29 18:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20086978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: Deckard is certain that Hobbs can see how much he is gagging for his cock





	Mine Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by Sigrid's song of the same name as the title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bohnbvNWYkk)

Deckard is certain that Hobbs can see how much he is gagging for his cock by now. There is no way the big man can't know; not when he is rolling his hips like a bitch in heat, thighs shaking where they are spread around this mountain of a man.

He must know, he _has_ to.

His every thought is fraying at the seams, coming undone, coherence turned water slipping through his fingers. Deckard can't focus, especially not when he is moving on instinct against Hobbs, baring his body to lust dark gaze, arching, kissing back hungrily.

There's something about the way they fit; how their bodies slot together in all their jagged and roughened edges, how in the short time since they'd begun tumbling into bed together, it takes all of Deckard to disbelieve the whispers that this was something that could last.

He hears a soft protesting whine permeate the air between them when the body pressed to his pulls back, and _oh_, he is the one who is making that noise.

"Hey, hey," Hobbs murmurs, nuzzling his nose to the side of his face. Trailing his lips from his temple to the corner of his stubbled jaw, coaxing him to tilt just that little more so that he can swallow Deckard's hitching gasps.

He allows himself to be moved onto his back with a gentleness that electrifies every nerve ending under his skin. It shouldn't be such a turn on. Nothing about Luke Hobbs should be a turn on to him, but the man lives to defy every rule, every fact, every rightness and every sense of logic.

Careful hands slide under the hem of his rumpled shirt to hold him by the base of his spine and the touch anchors him back to the way his body feels loved and cared for under the Hobbs' bulk. "You ok?"

"Don't - " The word slips out before Deckard can reel it back in, breathing heavily when Hobbs lets some of his weight fall on him. The air between them colours in some unspeakeable emotion.

Something in those warm eyes shift when he doesn't immediately continue. Hobbs rocks his hips, smearing his pre-come onto his skin with every casual swipe of his cock head to the inseam of Deckard's thigh. "Don't, what?"

There is a hurricane of lust and desire coloured by shame raging in the cage of his chest. His heart thuds high in his throat when he swallows. "Don't be gentle with me."

Hobbs laughs and it is a not unkind sound. It reverberates, echoing. It makes no sense to him, but Deckard wants to bottle that sound to bring it out when it is dark and he is alone again, wanting nothing more than to bask in the feel of his warmth and happiness.

"Tough luck," He says. 'Cause that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Deckard's hand grips onto the thick solid mass of a forearm. "Luke -"

"I want to." Hobbs is watching him with heartwrenching sweetness when their eyes meet. "Let me."

Deckard feels like a balloon blown up to burst. When large, work calloused hands haul him up by the back of his knees, he lets loose a soft gasp, pulling Hobbs down by his neck. Closing his eyes, parts his lips, licking into the warm, wet heat of Hobbs' mouth.

The thoughts of the end come unbidden; one or both of them will break the other's heart, there will be more damage than just a few car crash, there could be guns involved, and...

And he will miss pancake breakfasts with Sam, Saturday evenings in watching stupid movies that they barely pay any attention to because they're too busy snogging on the sofa. He can already taste the heartbreak of missing Hobbs' arms around him when they sleep, the loneliness that will come when he has to relearn how to sleep in a bed alone, and he can't--

"Stop."

Deckard opens his eyes, inhaling sharply at the feel of Hobbs' palm on his cheek, caressing gently. There's a tacky heat down the corner of his eyes and it takes him a beat to realise that he is crying.

Hobbs smiles, soft and reassuring, and Deckard sobs, lightheaded when he is folded in half, knees brushing up his cheeks and then he is kissed so thoroughly, all he feels when Hobbs pushes past the first ring of his spinchter is a vague discomfort.

He surrenders to it. Hands scrambling over tattooed shoulders, holding on tight as Hobbs fucks him right into the mattress. He thinks he must've said something, or maybe Hobbs did, but it doesn't matter. He isn't focused, he isn't going there just yet.

Deckard loses time to the way he is being filled up to the brim with Hobbs; cored out just to make space for the man and all he is capable of reshaping him to be. His skin feels too taut for his heart. There are kisses, there is a soft murmur in his ear, and when he turns into it, Hobbs is saying, "I'm here. I got you."

He isn't sure if he falls apart, but he must have. The next thing he is aware off is Hobbs sliding out of him, causing a soft protesting whine to whisper out of him. He is set right on his back, a heavy hand on his belly curling his cloudy thoughts to open his eyes and watch as Hobbs' hand strips his cock, grunting when he comes, splattering in an arc all over his front.

Deckard is boneless with satiation, lips smacking in lazy pleasure. Hobbs sighs, a happy and content sound. He leaves the bed, water running in their ensuite, coming back only to wipe Deckard down.

He reaches out tugging him down, folding himself into his arms and Hobbs holds on tight. The thoughts threaten to run the moment are still there, flitting in and out in the distance. But for now, he is ready to be held until he falls asleep. Enjoying the quiet in Hobbs' arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (j_gabrielle), Dreamwidth (j_gabrielle) and Tumblr (randomingoftherandomness, hardheartshere).
> 
> For those who say that I never said anything, it is clearly stated on my AO3 profile bio.
> 
> I do not have a Twitter account.
> 
> I do not have a Wattpad account.
> 
> **Please Do Not Repost My Fics**


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